Vosper's Revenge

by Kristian Alva

  Elias walked to the well, scooping up a handful of water. The water was cloudy, but drinkable. “This is amazing, Fëanor. Thank you. I'm impressed.”

  “I'm not finished,” said Fëanor. The elf walked toward a cactus growing nearby. The elf reached out with his index finger and touched it, saying, “Avoxtr-aogr.” Immediately, the cactus' growth exploded; dozens of cactus fruit appeared and ripened. Fëanor repeated the spell with every plant, tree, and cactus in the area. By the time he was finished, it looked like a thriving garden.

  The nomads gasped in wonder. They would have enough food and water for weeks. The children ran forward, drinking from the well and grabbing ripe cactus fruit. They bit into the desert fruit with relish, juice dripping down their brown chins.

  Fëanor walked back toward the well. “Now my task is complete. Shall we go?” He didn't look the least bit tired.

  “Yes, of course, Fëanor. I am in your debt,” said Elias. He meant it. It was much more than he had expected.

  Fëanor nodded, still expressionless. He turned to go, and almost as an afterthought, he said over his shoulder, “Tell the mortals to care for this oasis; it shall produce water and food for generations, as long as it is maintained properly.” Seconds later, Fëanor took off into the sky. The elf never once spoke or even looked at the tribesmen.

  “I will tell them,” said Elias, who relayed Fëanor's message to the grateful tribesmen. The men pounded their shields, and the women wept openly. Elias looked up at Fëanor and Blacktooth. They were already circling above, anxious to leave.

  “Sa'dun, we must go,” said Elias, clasping the man's hand.

  “Thank you, dragon rider. Thank you! May the gods bless you in this life and the next. We shall never forget your kindness, I swear it,” said Sa'dun. His eyes glistened with tears.

  As Elias and Nydeired flew into the sky, he looked back at the nomads. The women were picking fruit and filling their waterskins from the spring. The camels were eating grasses and drinking their fill. All the men were dancing in a great circle, giving thanks for the blessing they had received.

  Nydeired hovered beside Blacktooth, and Elias waved. Fëanor didn't smile or wave back. Then Elias felt the touch of the elf's mind on his own again.

  “Do not trust the humans,” said Fëanor.

  “What do you mean?” asked Elias, puzzled.

  “Sa'dun said he would never forget your kindness. But he is lying. He will forget, Elias. All of them forget. Mortals always do. It is in your nature to do so,” said Fëanor. “Mortals forget past kindnesses, past friends, and, worst of all, their past mistakes. For this reason, you are ill-fated to repeat history. It is the way of your people.”

  “I don't believe this. If you truly feel this way, then why did you do it? Why help them at all?” asked Elias.

  “I helped the humans because it was simpler for me to create the oasis than to argue with you. You are stubborn and obstinate. Not unlike your grandmother, Carina,” said Fëanor.

  Elias was incredulous. “Wait-you knew my grandmother?”

  “Yes, I knew your grandmother well-I fought by her side in Mount Velik many years ago during the war. Carina was courageous, but ever prideful. You're a lot like her. To your credit, however, you're still far easier to deal with than that infuriating dwarf Tallin.”

  “But how…” said Elias, but Fëanor broke contact and flew back into his old position, a full league behind Elias and Nydeired.

  Fëanor remained behind Elias for the remainder of the journey, not speaking to him again until they reached the southern border of the desert. As soon as they reached the Elburgian Mountains, Fëanor contacted Elias telepathically again.

  “We've reached the border,” he said. “Our task is finished. Farewell.” He turned and flew back in the same direction that they had come.

  That's it? They're leaving? asked Nydeired.

  “Yes,” said Elias. They watched as Fëanor cast a concealment spell and disappeared from sight. “They're gone, without another word.”

  Tallin was right. Elves are capricious, said Nydeired.

  “Yes. It makes me wonder why they've involved themselves in this conflict at all. Why show up now? What do the elves have to gain by helping Parthos in a war against Morholt?”

  Ironport

  Sela and Thorin arrived in Ironport before dawn. It was still dark when they arrived, so Brinsop landed a few leagues outside the city, near a forested area.

  Sela dismounted carefully, but Thorin stumbled out of the saddle and fell on his rump.

  “Ouch!” he said, rubbing his backside.

  “Careful, Thorin,” said Sela. “This is a good spot, Brinsop. We'll try to be back before sundown. Hopefully Islar and Floki are already inside the city. Try to remain hidden until nightfall and rest if you can.”

  I shall, Brinsop said, yawning. I'm hungry. I'll try a little hunting before sunrise. Perhaps I'll get lucky and find an osolut. I haven't eaten one in ages.

  “Osolut?” asked Sela, unfamiliar with the animal.

  Osoluts resemble a beaver, said Brinsop, except they're much larger and staggeringly fat. This is their mating season, when they become like walking slabs of bacon!

  “Sounds delicious,” said Sela.

  Mmmm… They are. If I'm lucky enough to find one, I'll save some meat for you, said Brinsop. The dragon licked her lips, thinking of the juicy mammal.

  “Thanks,” said Sela, smiling. “Thorin, I'm going into the city immediately. Hopefully I'll get lucky and gather some information. What's Ironport like these days? It's been ages since I've been this far east.”

  “Ironport isn't safe these days, especially at night. The governor is a drunk, and the town is overrun with bad people. My people used to do a fair amount of trade with this city, but most of the dwarves have left. There's naught in Ironport but bandits and thugs.”

  “Thanks for your advice, Thorin, but it's unnecessary. I understand the danger. This close to Morholt, I expected some unsavory characters. You're welcome to stay here, if you wish.”

  “Stay here? Nay, nay!” Thorin said huffily. “I'd never let ye go into that godforsaken place by yerself, Mistress Sela! What if somethin' befell ye while ye was there? I couldn't forgive myself! Perish the thought!”

  “Okay, okay!” said Sela, laughing. “I meant no offense. You've made your point. We shall go together.”

  Thorin grabbed his cloak and a small ax from his rucksack. He tucked the ax into his belt and straightened his beard, which he had braided for the journey. “I'm ready, Mistress Sela.”

  Sela donned her cloak. “Let's move-I'd like to make it inside the city before sunrise,” she said, waving goodbye to Brinsop. The dragon was sleeping soundly, hidden deep in the underbrush.

  Sela and Thorin traveled through the forest, off the main path, until the city came into view. They approached the gate just as the rosy fingers of dawn appeared on the horizon.

  Scattered groups of travelers trudged silently toward the city. The gates of Ironport were open and unguarded. Sela and Thorin entered without opposition.

  As soon as they got inside, Sela drew a sharp intake of breath. The condition of the city was appalling. The roads were filthy; the gutters ran deep with sewage. Countless beggars lined the sidewalks, their arms reaching out for alms. Most of them had grievous injuries-missing limbs, weeping sores, hanging tumors, or leprosy. Animals defecated out in the open near vendors who sold foul-smelling food to passersby. As each group of travelers entered the city, unkempt children approached, trying to pick pockets and steal food.

  “Thorin… this is worse than I imagined. This city is a pit.”

  “Aye,” said Thorin. “Ironport's in a bad state. It's as bad as Faerroe-maybe worse.”

  One skinny boy inched toward Sela. The child had black hair and blue eyes like her own son, Rali. He couldn't have been older than six or seven. The boy reached for her pocket, trying to steal some money. Sela grabbed his arm, and the boy yelped with alarm.


  “Owww! I wasn't goin' to do nothin', Missus! I swear it!” said the boy, squirming against her firm grip. The boy screamed. “Let go of me!”

  “Shhh! Be quiet, boy. I'm not going to hurt you,” said Sela. She raised the boy's sleeve, revealing a long, infected cut. The wound had drained, and the boy's shirt was stiff with dried pus. “Come with me. I'm going to fix your arm.”

  The boy looked frightened, but he stopped resisting. They walked behind a building, and Sela placed her hand on the boy's injury.

  “Close your eyes, boy,” she said.

  “No!” he said, shaking his head. He tried again to jerk his arm away. Sela could see the boy was terrified.

  “Don't be afraid,” said Sela. “Let's make a deal. Just close your eyes, and I promise I'll give you a copper penny.”

  His eyes lit up. “You promise?” It sounded too good to be true. A copper penny would buy bread for three days. The boy's stomach growled, and he rubbed his distended belly. Sela knew that it had been a long time since this child had enjoyed a good meal.

  “I promise,” said Sela, crossing her heart.

  “Okay,” said the boy, who shut his eyes tightly and looked away.

  “Curatio,” she whispered. Her right hand glowed with blue light, and the redness on the boy's arm disappeared. Then the wound sealed up, leaving only a pink scar.

  “Ouch!” said the boy. This time, he did jerk his arm away, but the pain was gone. He pulled up his dirty sleeve and looked at the healed wound with disbelief. “How did ye do that, Missus?”

  “Magic,” said Sela, smiling. “But shhh! Don't tell anyone. It's a secret.”

  The boy's eyes grew even wider. “Magic? Really?”

  “Yes, really. Now tell me your name, boy.”

  “Katahl,” he said. “What about your promise, Missus? Where's my penny?”

  Sela drew two copper coins out of her money pouch. “Katahl, here's your penny,” Sela pressed one coin into the boy's outstretched palm. “However… I'll give you a chance to earn another. We need a guide. If you'll escort us around the city, I'll give you one more penny, plus a loaf of bread. What do you say? How well do you know the streets of Ironport?”

  The boy nodded and clapped his hands gleefully. “I'll do it! I know 'em real good, Missus,” said Katahl, “better than anyone else, I'll bet!”

  “Great,” said Sela, removing food from her daypack. “Here's some bread and a piece of cheese.”

  Katahl grabbed the food and ate ravenously. It only took him a few minutes to finish. When he was done, he asked, “So where do you want to go?”

  “Take us to the city square,” said Sela.

  “Sure thing!” said the boy, “I know a shortcut!” They turned into an alleyway, which was filled with rotting garbage. The smell was dreadful, but Katahl seemed unfazed by it.

  Katahl looked at Thorin. “Can I ask you something? You're a dwarf, ain't you?”

  “Aye, I am. My name's Thorin.”

  “I could tell by your beard. There used to be a lot of dwarves in Ironport, but not anymore. They all went away.”

  “Why do you think that is?” asked Sela.

  Katahl shrugged. “I don't know. A while ago, empire soldiers came. They took the old governor and all the dwarves left. Things changed a lot after that.”

  “How often do you see empire soldiers in Ironport, Katahl?” asked Sela.

  “Every day. A whole bunch of them came into the city yesterday. They had horses and everything.”

  Thorin and Sela both froze. “You say there's a lot of soldiers here right now?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

  “Yeah, I stopped counting after forty, because I can't count any higher than that. Last night, they all went to the governor's office, and now they're goin' around the city, askin' people all kinds of questions. I think they're lookin' for someone.”

  “Katahl, did you see anyone else arrive with the soldiers?” said Sela. “Perhaps someone who looked a bit strange?”

  The boy thought for a moment. “Yes! There were two men in dark clothes. They followed behind the soldiers, but they didn't have any horses.”

  “Did you happen to see what they looked like?” said Sela.

  “Naw, they were wearing hoods. I didn't see their faces. But I remember them because their hands looked weird.”

  “What do mean by that?” asked Sela.

  “Their hands were so white, like snow. But their fingernails were black, like they were painted. They were walking real close together, almost touching. People ran away from them, like they were ghosts. I don't know why everyone was so scared. I thought they looked funny!”

  Necromancers.

  Sela cast a worried glance at Thorin, who tucked his beard into his cloak and slowly drew his ax from his belt. “Katahl, do you know where they are now-the men with the black fingernails?”

  “No… I haven't seen them since last night.”

  They heard shouting at the end of the alleyway. Sela and Thorin ducked into a nearby alcove. Two empire soldiers raced by on horseback, outfitted in their familiar yellow and red armor.

  Sela's heart raced, and she forgot about the horrible smell in the alleyway. She turned to Thorin and whispered, “This is bad. I don't know why the empire is here, but there's no way we're getting out of this city through the front gate. I suspect our mission has been compromised.”

  Thorin nodded and spoke to the boy. “Katahl, where's the Whale's Head Pub? We're meetin' some o' our friends there later.”

  Katahl stepped out of the doorway and pointed west. “It's right past the city square behind the cathedral. See that bell tower? It's about a block away from there. You can't miss it. There's a big whale painted on the sign.”

  “Thanks for all your help, Katahl,” Sela said, handing a coin over to the boy. “We've changed our minds-I don't think we'll need a guide after all. Here's that extra penny I promised you. I think we're going to stay here for a while.”

  “Wow, thanks!” said the boy, happily accepting the coin, oblivious to Thorin and Sela's rising distress.

  “Just do me a favor. Don't tell anyone you saw us, okay?” said Sela.

  “Okay,” said the boy, nodding. Then he ran off in the other direction and disappeared.

  As soon as the boy was gone, Sela faced Thorin. “We're in trouble. This is not a coincidence. We must assume the emperor knows about our plan. Even with Brinsop's help, I'm no match for two necromancers. There's no way I could defeat them both, much less an entire cohort of empire soldiers.”

  “Aye, it's bad news, all right,” said Thorin. “Do ye want to leave the city now? We could wait in the forest, and maybe return at nightfall?”

  “No, leaving now would be too risky. Plus, the necromancers are stronger at night. We need to find your cousin and Vosper's renegade mage, and fast. Hopefully, they're both still alive.”

  “Where do you want to go now?”

  Sela pointed at the bell tower. “There. If we can get to the top of that tower without being noticed, we'll have a view of the entire city. Your eyesight is superb. You might be able to spot the necromancers from there. At the very least, we'll find out where the soldiers are stationed.”

  “Aye. It's a good plan. But before we go, I think we should try to blend in with the locals.” Thorin ripped his sleeves and picked up a handful of dirt, rubbing it onto his face and neck. When he was finished, he looked a lot more like a homeless beggar.

  Sela sighed. Thorin was right. “It's a pity. This was my favorite cloak. Incêndio!” she said, and dozens of tiny flames burned holes into the wool. Then she also rubbed dirt into her clothing, face, and hands. She undid her neat ponytail and streaked her hair with mud. “Better?”

  Thorin smiled. “Better! Ye don't look like an outsider anymore. But even covered in muck, ye're still beautiful.”

  Sela laughed despite herself. “Thorin, has anyone ever told you that you're a shameless old flirt?”

  “Nay, I only do it when I'm around ye,
” he said, winking.

  The sound of galloping horses filled the air. They ducked back into the alcove as soldiers dashed by again, this time traveling in the opposite direction.

  Sela popped her head out a few seconds later. “It's all clear. Let's get out of here. This alleyway is a death trap. Thorin, cover your face and try not to call attention to yourself.”

  They ran toward the end of the alley, staying close to the wall. Once they reached the street, they fell behind a crowd of haggard-looking citizens. Thorin tucked his head down, faking a pronounced limp. They followed the motley group a few blocks and then ran down a side street, narrowly avoiding another soldier on horseback.

  “Whew! That was close,” said Sela. “This place is crawling with soldiers, and we're still blocks away from the bell tower.”

  “How 'bout a concealment spell?” asked Thorin

  Sela shook her head. “No, I want to avoid using any magic unless absolutely necessary. The energy will attract the necromancers. Plus, that type of spell is very tiring, and I need to conserve my strength in case we get attacked.”

  Thorin cupped his ear, listening for the sound of horses. “I don't hear anythin' now. It's safe to go.”

  “Okay, let's move,” said Sela.

  They kept moving cautiously toward the tower, which they reached within the hour. They jogged down the street and ducked into another alleyway. More soldiers passed, this time with swords drawn. They monitored the street from a shady doorway for a minute. A single beggar sat by the bell tower entrance.

  “Stay here,” whispered Sela. “I'm going to check the door.” She jogged across the street and jiggled the doorknob. It was locked. “Lauss-lresa!” she said, and the lock clicked open. The beggar glanced at Sela, but said nothing. She looked back over her shoulder and waved Thorin over. He jogged across the street, and they both ducked inside the building, locking the door behind them.

  Thorin put his finger to his lips. “Shhh! I hear somethin' up top,” he whispered, pointing to the stairs with his index finger.

  Sela couldn't hear anything, but she knew that Thorin's dwarf hearing was superior to hers. “What is it?” she asked softly.